evil done and goodness lost
by a. cameron-brown
Summary: MacBeth with a twist. The Witches turn the Servant


The characters and setting all belong to William Shakespear just borrowed to get my twisted idea about the witches and their involvement out

Evil done and goodness lost

I wish I could address this to my dearest, but I do not have one and even if I did, I would wish her never to have read this. For the evil and wrong doings are something even I wish I could forget. This is my record of what happened in my life after my last visit with Macbeth the Great Tyrant. Many things happened and I assure you, whoever you may be reading these painful words, all is true. Even as I write these words, my blood chills as I think of all the evil I did do and the last message the witches had for me. I hope you as the reader take these words as a warning if the power evil has and the trouble mistrust brings. I also hope that you do not waste this warning or take light of it like I did when warned of the power Macbeth had and the evil he did. After all, it started with him. I hope this brings me peace in my death, soon to come, but I cannot go without writing my account, nor can I live with the knowledge of what I have done.

'… thou cream-faced loon! Where got'st thou that goose look?'

'There is ten thousand – ' I began to tell.

'Geese, villain?' he The Great Macbeth did mock.

'Soldiers sir' I continued to explain.

'Go prick thy face and over-red thy fear,' he shouted abusively towards me, 'Thou lily-livered boy. What soldiers, patch? Death of thy soul! Those linen cheeks of thine are counsellors of fear. What soldiers, whey-face?' venting all rage.

'The English force, so please you.' I say trying desperately to keep my balance while swooning with fear.

'Take thy face hence.' Macbeth orders me harshly. I, having no courage left to stay or walk with pride ran out as quickly as my legs could go not stopping until I was far away.

Now I would love to say I ran to tell someone of Macbeth's plots, but regrettably, I did not. I ran to rant on deaf ears of the trees about the horrid Macbeth. The shame that follows that day will never fade as I cursed that cruel day away.

I never realised how bad that day was to become nor the horrid journey it would lead me in as I continued to run.

I slowly began to run out of breath and had to stop. Nearly falling over with fatigue, I failed to notice the dank woods I had ran into, and having not seen this it became to late for me to avoid meeting the three weird sisters that sprang upon me with the sharp suddenness of a storm that lacks the grace of the bitter wind around me. I was not able to avoid this nor was I able to ignore the intriguing message that their words brought. Their approach brought an airy presence that left me feeling woozy and light footed. They began to speak making their purpose and message all to clear. Had I known the ill intent that they really had I do not think I would have been as gullible. But then you have to understand that it wasn't as simple as knowing what they wanted, I had been having a bad day and was very stressed as it was, especially with the one man I had chosen to support as king who was about to get murdered for killing the late King Duncan. However, I am not using this as an excuse for what I did I blame myself entirely as I had all control of my actions.

Their words spoke great hope to me, of what hope I was not sure, all I felt was a rise in my sprits possibly for revenge.

"You, oh loyal servant of Macbeths, I see revenge for you in your future." Spoke the First.

"And I see panic for those who harmed you" spoke the Second.

"And I see nothing but pain" spoke the Third already turning to leave, clearly showing she did not wish to be questioned. I do not know who spoke last but as the fog that had suddenly came, swirled around them, a faint voice spoke sharply "**bring us great Macbeths head**!"

As they left I discovered the origins of that fog that had quickly swum up and now as strongly as it appeared, it to went with the witches. I slowly rose and headed to the glories castle of the new king Malcolm, who now ruled rightfully in his place. Knowing that there, I would find the knowledge I needed to locate the head. As I approached the castle, I glanced around carefully to survey the surroundings of the area. I noted several people being brought in, many of whom I recognized as servants of Macbeths castle. Sensing their eyes on me, I hid knowing they would give me away. I crept carefully into the castle and searched quietly until I found the head. Now the head was sitting there as if I was meant to take it, nothing protected it but a sign that said; THE MOST TREACHEROUSE HEAD BELONGING TO ONE SEVANT OF THE DEVIL, MACBETH. That and the several headless bodies of my former fellow peers. I took a breath calmly and moved toward the head. Swiftly I lifted the head and ran. As soon as I reached the woods the witches appeared and sharply took the head from me disappearing as they did.

The rest of the week that followed was mostly hazy as if the fog never left with the witches. I know I got Macbeths head and more for them, which was my revenge, and I saw many faces wary with worry about why such acts were happening. Such panic warmed the heart but now it only chills with fear for what I became. Moreover, I would have continued to had I not heard the conversation that changed everything in one swift moment.

"Our plan is working, foolish man that believes all is his destiny and that none can call him on his acts"

"Much like Macbeth"

"All to much like Macbeth, but then Macbeth was meant to be evil and all was true "

"And poor little servant boy meant for good with all that hate"

"Would you stop that? He believed and now it's done, to late to feel sorry for him"

"But all that good wasted, such a noble man and meant to be great as a wish trusted elder"

"STOP! Take back your pity. Someone must fall for what was done. Besides when he hears what he has done, he would rather die anyway "at this the witches ran away. I feeling like a deflated balloon sank mournfully to the ground. All that goodness in me wasted, to late to save my soul. I quickly realised that they were to set me up and went quickly with their stuff to set them up.

I know this explains not much and is hurried, I did not expect the pain to be this harsh, making the words wearier on me. I live with the pain each day, as it has been a year since the night I found out. My plan, which involved many of their possessions and a victim well known enough to seal their fate to death worked perfectly. No one noticed me as I planted their special objects around the scene. They were trialled and hung in the early light of the day proceeding their conviction, for the murder, theft of Macbeth's head and many more things that I did following their planning.

Now that you know, some of the truths of what I have done yet have not entirely paid for, it is time for my conclusion to this ghastly chapter of my life. Sadly, it also closes any other chapter that may have been to come. Though I feel the witches did this when they mislead me with my future. I wish for only one more thing, though I know I should never get it. I wish to have this on my grave to remind all of the memory that I shall never have.

A man must inherit many things

One is wisdom, one is strength

Another a conscience and yet another is good judgement

But all are born with a good heart easily swayed

Beware the vulture eager to alter.

Stephanie Clyma

The piece where Macbeth and the servant are speaking is quoted from the text Macbeth.

The poem is written by the author of this story Stephanie Clyma.


End file.
